Call & Response Read Online Free

supermarket and this place I wouldn’t know Carlisle from a hole in the ground yet.’
    ‘An easy mistake to make, some would say.’
    ‘Would you?’
    ‘Absolutely not. I’m Carlisle born and bred, not that it’s any reason to stay. But so long as you keep away from a few spots this is as good as any city to live in, and better than some, I dare say.’
    ‘And you’ll show me some of the places that a respectable woman shouldn’t ever be seen in then, Pepper?’
    ‘Aye, ma’am. I will that. They’re all my regular haunts, like. But if this new DC is no good at the job then the drinks will be on you, OK?’
    ‘Fair enough. Send me an email when you’ve had a chance to decide. But, judging by his file, it’ll be you who’s buying.’
     
     
    DC Rex Copeland was driving slowly, trying to get his head round Carlisle’s one way system. He’d already been past the floodlit castle twice, and that couldn’t be right. And it was just so quiet, it was making him nervous. Like there’d been a zombie apocalypse or something, and no-one had told him. It was only just after eleven, and the roads were almost completely empty. Back in Tottenham they’d still be busy, and there’d still be people on the streets. He’d hardly seen a soul, so there was no-one to ask for directions.
     
    So when the blue lights lit up behind him he was almost relieved, and he pulled over into a bus stop and looked down at the address of the hotel he was trying to find. By the time the traffic officer had reached the car he’d checked the address, and had the window rolled down.
    ‘Good evening, officer.’
    ‘Is this your car?’
    ‘Yes, it is. Actually I’m a copper, and I’m trying to find my hotel, on William Street. Could you point me in the right direction please, mate?’
    ‘Turn off the engine and get out of the car, please.’
     
    Copeland shook his head, turned off the engine, and got out of his shiny but middle-aged BMW coupe. He smiled at the copper, but it didn’t seem to help, so he reached into his pocked for his Warrant Card. It was from the Met, and while the traffic cop was big he didn’t look the brightest, although Copeland was still pretty confident that he could read. But Copeland didn’t even have time to open it.
    ‘You’re not big enough to be a bobby, son. You’re more drug-dealer size, I’d say.’
    ‘There’s no size limit in the job, mate. Not any more. And there’s no colour bar either, if that’s what you’re getting at. You need to learn a few manners, mate. Look, let me show you my ID and we can all get on our way, how’s that? I’m sure I’ll see you down the nick sometime, and we can have a laugh about it.’
    Copeland took a conciliatory step forward, felt the Warrant Card between his fingers, and started to open it. ‘Here, look.’
     
    What happened next amazed him, because the cop went for him, stick suddenly out, and swung hard at his head. Copeland ducked the blow easily, grabbed the cop’s outstretched arm and used his weight and momentum to throw him onto the ground, so that the man landed on his back, the breath rushing from his lungs. Copeland moved forward, pinned the man’s broad shoulders to the ground with his knees, pulled out his Warrant Card and shouted ‘Police, and you stay right where you are’ to the other cop, who was only half out of the car. He did exactly as he was told. ‘Radio in and check if you like. I’m DC Rex Copeland, and I’m starting work at Carlisle nick tomorrow. So thanks a bunch for the warm welcome, lads. You shouldn’t have bothered, though. You really shouldn’t.’
     
    Five minutes later the cop who Copeland had put on the ground was still apologising, with what little breath he could muster.
    ‘So why did you stop me, John?’, Copeland interrupted. It had been a long drive, and he didn’t want to hear it all again.
    ‘Why? Going too slow, I suppose.’
    ‘What’s the limit on here?’
    ‘Thirty.’
    ‘And what was I